


All Trades (Barbatos x Reader)

by sondepoch



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Comfort, Completed, Cute, F/M, Fluffy, Happy Ending, MC is female, No Spoilers, Oneshot, Short, Wholesome, barbatos fixes things, i love barbatos, mammon is insensitive, reader is female, reader is mc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24127336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sondepoch/pseuds/sondepoch
Summary: When things go south at one of Diavolo's parties, you end up lost in his castle, lonely and crying. Barbatos, ever the loyal butler, quickly finds and soothes you, turning your tearstained cheeks rosy with laughter.But after an hour passes, and you get to know the demon better, the reason for your pink cheeks has shifted to more intimate reasons.And it seems that Barbatos feels the same way.~Oneshot
Relationships: Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Barbatos/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 414





	All Trades (Barbatos x Reader)

You're not upset.

You're _not_.

You brush tears away from your cheeks, keeping your head low as you exit the party hall before anyone notices you, still hellbent on convincing yourself of that fact: You're not upset.

You're _not!_

Against your will, you hear Satan's insensitive words play out in your head. _"Humans are so weak—it's quite surprising that they've managed to survive so many centuries without perishing."_

Well, coming from Satan, the words aren't really that inconsiderate. They're more reflective of his natural curiosity and his eternal search for knowledge, and how he's always analyzing patterns he sees.

That's probably why, at the time, you'd continued walking toward the demon brothers, only a light grimace present on your face at the words. But if Satan's comment wasn't insensitive, Mammon's certainly was: _"No wonder they're the lesser beings of the three realms! For all their talk, humans really aren't much, huh?"_

What's worse is that nearly all the remaining demon brothers nodded their heads in agreement.

That had stopped you in your tracks.

You'd thought that these past four months in the Devildom had taught them how _strong_ humans actually are: as a species, your value lies not in individual strength but your mutual ability to find strength in _each other_. In fact, of the three realms, humans are the only entities that actively seek to change and better themselves—given that the Devildom is still stuck in a monarchy, and the Celestial Realm has eternally divided its angels into the holy hierarchy, which is really just a caste system determined by birth.

Mammon's words replay again in your head: _the lesser beings_.

Is that how they see you? Lesser? At the very least, you'd hoped that they'd all come to recognize you, individually, as an equal. Despite your physical weaknesses, you've proven time and time again that your mental tenacity is nothing to be trifled with, and your sheer human resilience has pulled you rough situations countless times.

Though it seems that the brothers haven't recognized any of that.

You feel your lip quiver, tears blurring your vision, as you continue to haphazardly make your way through Diavolo's castle. You only allow yourself to stop when you're far enough that you can't even hear the sound of party chatter.

You're lost, you know. But you don't even care. You just don't want to be around other people right now.

You pause when you reach an extravagantly decorated room, no doors obstructing your path. Cautiously entering, your eyes instantly dart over the far end where there lies a stunning alcove, just deep enough to allow for a sitting space directly in front of a large window.

You approach.

_It's beautiful._

Not just the ornamental designs on the alcove, or the embroidered silk drapes on the side, or even the lovely thickness of the window that allows moonlight to stream in so brilliantly. No, what's truly beautiful is the _view_.

You wipe your tears from your face, memories of Satan's and Mammon's words fading from your mind as your eyes take in the _stunning_ sight before you. Quietly, you enter the alcove, pulling the curtains closed behind you. With the thick fabric acting as a door that grants you privacy, you allow yourself to relax. The silk is white with gold designs, and it seems to reflect the moonlight that streams through the window back out, filling the entire annex to the brim with the moon's lovely glow.

_Exquisite._

Moving forward, you smooth out your dress before sitting down, a soft gasp leaving your lips once you're even closer to the loveliness that is this view.

You don't recall climbing any stairs, but you know you must be near the very top of Diavolo's castle right now. The entire Devildom is laid out in front of you, little lights twinkling on and off as various demons party and drink and laugh and dance the night away.

A small smile crosses your face at the thought.

You see a few demons directly in front of Diavolo's castle, stumbling as they attempt to lift off the ground with their wings. _Probably drunk_ , you think, turning your gaze to the sky. On such a clear night, it's easy for you to see the various delivery-demons and late-night partygoers making their final trips home as they soar through the sky, dark wings darting faster than anyone has a right to. Another smile crosses your face.

You see a light in the distance, a specific house, turning on and off. It almost looks almost like what people would do in the human world with haunted houses, attempting to scare guests with flickering lights. _I should drag Mammon to a Haunted House_ , you think absentmindedly. The very thought is enough to bring an amused smile to your face, imagining how the demon would react to such a situation before your expression turns sour once more.

Your lip quivers once more, and you suddenly remember Mammon's prior comment.

_The lesser beings._

You turn your eyes back upon the Devildom, gazing back at all it has to show you, desperate for it to steal your thoughts away once more.

The next half hour passes like that: you trying to forget what you overheard at the party, attempting to convince yourself that you're overreacting, holding back (and failing) your tears, and then turning to look for another set of distractions out the window before the process repeats all over again.

When a familiar voice rings out in the room, you're almost relieved that someone has come to fetch you from the prison of your mind. At this point, you feel even more awful than when you left the party, so drained that you can't even bring yourself to wipe the tears away from your face.

"Excuse me?" A familiar voice repeats. You didn't recognize the demon in his first call, but there's no mistaking the confident yet calm tone. "Whoever is behind that curtain, please come out. Your absence at the party will soon be noted."

 _Barbatos_.

You freeze. If you act like you're not here, will the demon butler humor you and play along? The sound of his approaching footsteps tells you otherwise.

You flinch when you see the Barbatos pull open the drapes that had previously hidden you away, averting your eyes so that he can't see your tearstained face. How are you to know that the moonlight makes the wet streaks on your skin glisten as brightly as your earrings?

Barbatos's eyes widen at the sight of you, though you don't see it. He was expecting to find a demon—it certainly wouldn't be the first time someone has gotten drunk and decided to go exploring—but to see _you_ here? Crying, no less? You don't notice the way Barbatos's jaw momentarily clenches at the sight as he internally files the memory away to later reprimand Lucifer for failing at his duty of keeping you happy.

"Well, this is surprising," He greets you after a moment of silence.

You instinctively meet Barbatos's eyes, a slight frown present on your lips. You try to think of a snarky comment to retort back, but before you can say anything, the butler is speaking again. "Do you wish for me to summon one of the brothers to comfort you? Lord Diavolo wishes for all the members of your house to enjoy themselves to the fullest at this celebration."

You scowl.

Can't Barbatos even _pretend_ to care about you? _All these demons are so insensitive_ , you think, your lip quivering. Deep down inside, though, you know that the only reason you're so disturbed by Barbatos's nonchalance is because of all the demons, he's one of the few that you _want_ to care.

From the very first day, he was the one helping you and explaining the situation you were in. And while other demons may be oblivious to a person's more subtle bodily cues, from the day of your arrival, you swore that you could see beyond the facade he maintains, into the quiet and almost generous personality.

But maybe you were wrong?

"Those stupid brothers are the reason I'm here right now." The words are bitter as they leave your tongue, and you drop your gaze once more.

"I see," Barbatos responds. He's quiet for a moment. "Do you intend to return to the party at all? I can arrange for your transportation back to the House of Lamentation."

"No, they'll get worried. And I don't want to have to have a whole talk with them. I'll go back, I promise. Just..."

"Just later?" Barbatos finishes your sentence, his usual uptight smile tinted with an undertone of sympathy.

You nod.

"Do you truly believe you'll be able to find your way back?" He asks. Your inability to respond to his question is an answer in itself, and he chuckles. You catch his gaze, and realize that he, too, is staring out the window. "I'll remain until you wish to return. You may want to fix your makeup. Do you have the required materials, or should I fetch them for you?"

 _Shit!_ You curse inwardly, remembering how Asmo had spent hours perfecting your face, applying eyeshadow and blush and lipstick, and you didn't even recognize some of the other devices he was using on your skin. You can somewhat do regular human makeup, but demon makeup? Oh god.

"I can't..." A light blush creeps onto your face. You avoid Barbatos's gaze and pray that he'll understand your meaning without you having to spell it out for him.

"Pardon?" His confusion is evident, and the pink on your cheeks only grows stronger.

"Ican'tdoitbymyself" You manage to say, the words coming out in a low tumble as you try to explain your issue as quickly as possible. _How embarrassing_ , you can't help but think. But, once more, Barbatos's confusion only further heightens your flustered state.

"You can't what, MC? Please speak slower. I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you're saying."

You sigh, taking a deep breath.

Is Barbatos playing with you? Or is he truly this dense?

A single look into his clear olive eyes confirms the latter.

"I can't dress myself for demon parties yet," You finally muster up the courage to say. "Asmo did all my makeup for me."

You're quiet for a moment, understanding the predicament you're in. You swallow nervously when you realize what you'll have to ask Barbatos to do. "Can you...?" You stare at the butler's feet, biting your lip.

If only you could notice the spark of desire that flashes through Barbatos's eyes as he gazes down at you, seated so delicately while biting your lip and staring at the ground in meek submission. He's so used to being ordered around, _commanded_ , and as one of the only humans in the exchange program, it's certainly within your right to do so. But here you are, _asking_ him for help. _Trusting_ him to give it. Your glistening cheeks and your utterly wrecked makeup only add to the charm of _ruin_ that you're presenting to him oh-so-deliciously, and he has to remind himself to stay calm at the realization that, of all demons, you're trusting _him_ to help you in this state.

"Of course, my lady." He smiles when he notices your frown turning into a light giggle, the phrase never failing to make you laugh at how preposterous it is that you—a mere human from such an ordinary background—can ever be considered a "lady" in the palace of a demon overlord.

You smile at Barbatos, finally standing up. Your eyes meet for barely a second before he's leading you out of the room, down a flight of stairs (when did you ever come up?) and into an extravagant dressing room. Within minutes, you're seated in front of a mirror.

And it's only then that you realize just how _awful_ you look.

"Oh my god," You mumble, staring at your eyes. "I look like a raccoon!"

Barbatos chuckles, gathering in his hands what you imagine to be makeup remover. "A colorful raccoon. Asmodeus chose a rather wide color palette to use on your face."

It relieves you when Barbatos begins wiping the makeup off—having to pull a fresh makeup wipe nearly every three seconds because of the sheer volume of substance on your face—and you begin to see your natural skin peek through.

"It's entirely feasible for you to choose to return to the party without any makeup at all," Barbatos comments while brushing your hair out of the way with his hand. His words hold truth: since the very first day of your arrival in the Devildom, you'd noticed that your skin has never looked better. Whether it's your body's response to the natural magic flowing through the land or the sudden lack of stress is something you're not quite sure of, but it's ended up with you looking closer and closer to your personal definition of 'perfection' with each passing day.

Alas, Asmodeus would notice if you returned with a bare face, lovely as you would look.

"I can't. If Asmo sees, he'll know that I..."

"Right," Barbatos comments, wiping down the final remnants of your makeup. He stands behind you as he works, allowing you both to stare into the mirror as he trashes the final makeup wipe, his gloved thumbs rubbing circles into your cheekbones.

You stare at him in the mirror.

He seems mesmerized, the way his chartreuse eyes don't even blink as he watches you. And if you're being completely honest, you can't deny that you're just as spellbound by the gaze on his face. He must have forgotten that you can see him, too, through the mirror, because for once, you can tell that he isn't masking his emotions.

A light smile plays on your lips when you realize that it's _you_ Barbatos is so entranced by.

That helps your mood quite a bit, even after he finally recovers with a cough and begins working on whatever the demon equivalent of eyeliner is.

You smile.

"So do you intend on informing me what drove you to run from the party in such a hysterical state?" Barbatos asks while he works. Before, you might have mistaken his words to be cruel, seeking information for the simple purpose of _knowing_. But now, you can tell that it's a genuine attempt to make conversation. His next words are almost teasing. "Or have you already made plans to keep me in the dark for the rest of the night?"

You sigh, wishing that you didn't have to close your eyes for Barbatos to do your eyeshadow. You really want to see his facial expression as you explain what happened, just to get a sense of what he's thinking, but by the time you're done with your telling, he seems surprisingly willing to let you know his thoughts.

"I don't think Mammon intended to imply that humans are lesser beings in that regard. Of all the brothers in the House of Lamentation, I'm sure you understand that he's the _most_ swayed by you. Despite his words, he does indeed see you as an equal."

"So why would he call humans 'lesser beings?'"

"I think he was simply restating a fact. Of the three higher entities: humans are objectively the lowest. As a species, you are physically the weakest, incapable of flight, generally lack magical capabilities, are typically ignorant of the other realms, and you live the shortest."

You bite your lip at Barbatos's words, hating that they're true.

"Therefore, from a biological standpoint, there's no question that humans are lesser beings when compared to demons and angels. That was perhaps Mammon's point. If you'd stayed to listen to their conversation, I'm sure the brothers would have continued to discuss how humans overcome that with their other evolutionary strengths. Wasn't that Satan's point in the first place? How impressive it is that humans have succeeded in survival?"

"Oh," You mumble, suddenly feeling foolish. When the feathery brushes on your face stops, you open your eyes, pleasantly surprised to find that they look just as striking as when Asmo did them. "I didn't...I didn't think about it from that angle."

"There's no fault in that," Barbatos continues, applying a strange liquid to your cheeks. You suspect it's a base for blush. "Mammon isn't the best with words. His brothers likely only understood his meaning because they've been with him for thousands of years."

You nod, thankful for Barbatos's insights. His words. His comfort. Who would have thought that this butler would be so good at easing the tears of a crying human? Another smile breaks out onto your face at the thought, and you allow your eyes to wander back up to the butler's face.

He doesn't seem to notice you staring at him. That, or he doesn't mind.

Again, he seems entirely entranced as he continues to transform your face. His breathing is even, but there's no mistaking the tiny hitch in his throat when you lick your still-uncolored lips, causing a subtle smirk to form on your face.

Have his emotions always been this easy to read? Or is it just now, in private, that he allows the mask to slip? And is he even aware that you're gazing at him so intently, willingly giving you access to the feelings he hides around others? Or is that, too, subconscious?

You watch his gloved thumbs, now spotted with the color of your eye shadow, as they slowly allow color to spread on your cheeks. The tone he uses is paler than the one Asmodeus selected, but you can barely tell because your cheeks are already so naturally rosy from the intensity of his gaze.

"You're quite skilled with makeup," You remark casually. "In the human world, stylists wouldn't even be able to do makeup from this angle. Through a mirror, I mean."

"Butlers are well-versed in all trades," Barbatos comments with a sly smile. "Would you prefer it if I continued the human way? Without the mirror?"

He walks forward before you can respond, angling the mirror away so that all you can see is _him_ as he continues making final touches to your makeup. Unfortunately, he keeps his facial expressions controlled as you stare at him, unable to look elsewhere. _A pity._

But even without the mirror, when he leans back to study your face, you can tell there's something missing.

"Lipstick...?" You say with a questioning tone while he continues staring at you, one hand still underneath your chin to angle your face upward at him, into the light.

"Not yet." But despite his words, Barbatos doesn't make any motion to do anything else. He studies your face with a controlled expression, likely noting how your cheeks are growing pinker with each passing second.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of just staring into each other's eyes, he breaks the silence with a question.

"Do you consciously tempt me?"

You blink.

_What?_

And then it hits you. _That_ must have been what he's been thinking this whole night, staring at you so intensely through the mirror. A bashful smile crosses your face. He means the words as a compliment.

"Are you tempted?" You manage to ask. You're surprised by your own boldness, but with Barbatos being so rarely _honest_ with you, it's hard not to respond in the same way.

"Very," He murmurs, his eyes trailing down from your eyes to your lips, still untouched by makeup. The hand under your chin shifts, and soon the butler has his thumb tracing your bottom lip, experimentally pressing down to feel the softness.

"Then _do something_ about it," You mumble, unable to hold back any longer. And it seems that Barbatos was just at his own limit, too, because in the few seconds it takes for you to stand up and press your body against his, he immediately responds, spinning you around such that _he's_ now sitting on the chair, pulling you into his lap.

You let out a sound of disbelief when you realize how quickly he's moved, somehow managing to get you to literally _straddle_ his lap in a manner of seconds. "H-how—" Your words come out short and confused, never having seen the full scope of his demonic strength and agility. And even now, you can tell that Barbatos is holding back.

"Why should _I_ do something?" Barbatos asks playfully, his usual knowing smirk back on his face as he grips your waist. "I must say, I'd much rather prefer to see _my lady_ as she _takes_ what she wants."

Barbatos leans forward, staring possessively at you as you sit on his lap, both hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Suddenly, you realize that it's not Diavolo's butler sitting beneath you right now. No, that state of being the 'loyal and serving butler' is the very mask itself, meant to hide the raw power that comprises the demon within.

The true Barbatos is the one staring hungrily into your eyes, smug confidence radiating off his body as he waits for you to make the first move, knowing full well that after this past evening, you're too enamored by him not to. You let yourself stare at the demon in shock, wondering how you'd never noticed this side to him.

You lean your head forward, wrapping your arms around the demon's neck, hesitantly locking his lips in a kiss that turns passionate in seconds. It's hot. Almost _too_ hot, feeling his gloved fingers tense around your waist every time your lips move against his, bodies molding through the clothing in a lustful mix of tongue, movement, and _desire_. You let out a gasp when the demon bites down on your lip, stronger than anything you're used to but pleasing all the same, and you can't help but wonder _how_ Barbatos keeps this side of him locked in.

You'd known it before, but you understand it now: Barbatos is truly one of the most powerful demons to exist in the entire Devildom. His powers are beyond the scope of anything demons are familiar with, the man literally strong enough to make time _itself_ his bitch.

You moan into his mouth when his hands begin to roam your body, disheveling the clothing you'd spent half an hour ironing. But at the moment, you can't bring yourself to care. It's too hot. Too passionate. Too intense.

But the sound of your moan prompts Barbatos to pull back, his usual smirk even more confident after seeing you respond so enthusiastically.

You let out a quiet whine when he pulls away, both breathless from the intensity of the moment.

"You're good at kissing," You mumble, embarrassed despite the situation.

"Of course," He murmurs teasingly. There's a mischievous glint in his eye. "A butler is well-versed in _all_ trades."

The words were innocent enough when he said them the first time, but they take on an entirely new meaning now, as Barbatos allows his hand to slide lower until his thumb is stroking your inner thigh, dangerously close to what lies between your legs.

You feel the breath catch in your throat.

"Enough of that, isn't it?" He teases, withdrawing his hand. He pulls a metal cylinder from the table and opens it, revealing the pigmented stick inside. "Let's get this lipstick on you, and then you can head back to the party."

You let out an uncharacteristic growl and snatch the tube from the Barbatos's hands, fed up with his teasing. The man has been planning this—not applying your lipstick was clearly a _calculated_ decision, and he knows _exactly_ what he's doing to you. His smirk never fades, not even when you toss the tube to the far side of the room, hearing it land on a carpet with a soft thump.

"So feisty," He mumbles passively, putting up no fight when you mold your lips against him once more. "What will the brothers say when they notice your absence?"

"Doesn't matter," You mumble into the demon's lips, savoring the way his hand has moved up to your hair, pressing your head down and closer to him. You smirk when you hear a low groan leave his lips, instinctively moving your hips against his as you sit on his lap.

The quiet hiss that leaves his mouth is more telling than his attempts to hide his pleasure.

"There's no going back after this," He murmurs, hands suddenly on your waist again as he grinds your body against his. "They'll be able to smell me on you. _All of them._ They'll know."

You shiver at the tone of his voice, and you can tell that the prospect of making you his excites him. You lean your head forward to whisper into Barbatos's ear, savoring the way his body _shivers_ under you when you lick it. "Don't hold back."

With those words, the last of his restraint vanishes. He mumbles for you to wrap your legs around him, a command that you instantly obey. Without an ounce of hesitation, he grips your thighs and hastily pulls you into his room—which you note is _conveniently_ close, almost as if the demon has been planning this since he brought you here.

Upon entry, he all but slams you into the wall, already undoing your clothing as he tosses it to the ground with effortless confidence. You wonder, momentarily, if he plans to take you then and there, against the wall, or if he'll end up pulling you into his bed.

But does it really matter?

From the way he's sucking on your neck, possessively marking you in lieu of mere kisses, there's no questioning it: he'll ensure that your night with him is beyond worth it. You certainly trust him on that front.

And, in truth, who wouldn't? He is, indeed, well-versed in all trades.

It seems that pleasure will be no exception.

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 4.3k
> 
> Notes: If I'm 100% honest, my top 3 favorites from Obey Me! are Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos~ After writing Paramour, I've been DYING to get some Barbatos content out and if the response to this is positive, then i'll DEFINITELY continue writing our favorite demon butler~ i mean, how can you not love him? (or any of the boys, for that matter)
> 
> Comment & Leave Kudos
> 
> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.


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